


retro

by crystalcities



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 00:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19120396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalcities/pseuds/crystalcities
Summary: This one is about Frenkie's shorts.





	retro

**Author's Note:**

> DAE think Frenkie’s shorts are way shorter than everyone else’s? They don't seem that way today but I kept asking my friends about this when we’re watching the CL and nobody cares lol.
> 
> I’m just a very excited culé waiting for Matthijs’s transfer announcement <3 (now that I’ve written this, I'm sure he's going to go to PSG) Also Frenkie was amazing vs. England and I already have a lot of feelings about what if Valverde refuses to play him next season...

“Frenkie, why do you do this to me?”

“What?” Frenkie sits up, gets out of the stretch he was doing. Matthijs is standing right in front of him, looking agitated. He drops to his knees and sits back, gaze raking over Frenkie’s legs.

“Your shorts,” he starts. He puts his hands on both of Frenkie’s ankles, staring, and smooths his thumbs over the insides, behind where the bone protrudes. He drags a couple fingers up the back of his calves, digging into the soft spots behind his knees, and back down the front side, right over the swell of muscle outside of the shin bone. Frenkie shivers. Matthijs leans forward and squeezes Frenkie’s thighs, right where the hem of his shorts has slid up, the fabric stacking almost to his hip, showing even more skin than usual. “Why do you wear them so short?”

“What? I don’t-”

“Yes you do,” Matthijs slips his hands underneath the fabric, tracing patterns on the inside of his thigh. Frenkie holds still, and feels himself blush. “And you never wear undershorts. It’s so indecent.”

“I- Last time I checked there wasn’t a dress code about that,” Frenkie manages. He braces himself on his elbows. Matthijs is still touching him, up and down his legs, fingertips traveling further with each pass. Frenkie feels hypersensitive, tingling everywhere Matthijs has touched. Matthijs stares at how goosebumps are breaking out all over the pale skin, the hairs standing on end. Frenkie tenses, the muscles on his thighs twitching.

“Are you trying to look like you’re Cruyff or Van Hanegem?” Matthijs continues, making eye contact with Frenkie now.

Frenkie takes a deep breath.

“Well, _captain_ , if- if they bother you so much, why don’t you take them off me?”

Matthijs raised his eyebrows at the boldness, then he’s on Frenkie in a flash, surging forwards and catching his lips in a hungry kiss. He holds Frenkie by the waist, then he reaches under his shirt, hooks his fingers under the waistband of those irritating shorts...

A football hits Matthijs square in the back of the head. Dušan stands next to the touch line, shaking his head at the two canoodling youngsters, one of whom is supposedly captain of the team. The two of them scramble apart, both buzzing from the thrill. Matthijs glances at Frenkie, who's trying to adjust himself in his shorts, and resolves to get them off him, along with other pieces of clothing, later.


End file.
